


The Maple Tea Operation

by notkewlio, quizzletriangle3



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Also potatoes, Fluff, M/M, rare pairs, they also go drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-20 23:21:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2446817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notkewlio/pseuds/notkewlio, https://archiveofourown.org/users/quizzletriangle3/pseuds/quizzletriangle3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a crush is abruptly ended, a few drinks are had, relationships are bound to change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Maple Tea Operation

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Here's a little thing me and my best friend wrote over a series of emails. I would write a chunk, she would reply, that's why the writing styles differ each break.  
> She says "just let the readers know I thank them and hope they enjoyed the story as much as I enjoyed writing it"  
> Also, please, check my friend out! she just posted the first chapter of her Hetalia/hunger games crossover! It's a great read. (trust me, I'm her beta reader, I know more about that fic. Definitely recommend.)

Alfred had to be the densest person Matthew knew. Thicker than a box of rocks, he'd say. No matter what Matthew did, Alfred wouldn't take a hint. A very important hint. Matthew liked him. He wasn't alone in this lost cause, Arthur was there too, blatantly hitting on the self absorbed country, same as Matthew. You'd think because they both wanted the same guy, there'd be some competition or rivalry, but it was in fact the opposite. They were good friends, and often assured each other that if one managed to get into Alfred's thick skull, the other would back off. It was all in good spirit. It wasn't until a recent world conference that they began to try and out do each other. They were both tired after spending several hours with the rest of the countries, and to be frankly honest, both Matthew and Arthur had had a few drinks. (Matthew only had one, but Arthur had quite a few- especially after arguing with Francis.)

"That bloody wanker. I swear one day I'll just-" Arthur muttered darkly, walking side by side with Matthew out of the meeting room. 

"Hey, calm down. It's alright, nobody likes Francis anyway." Matthew assures his friend softly. To get his mind off of his little fight with the mentioned French man, Matthew proposed an idea. "Wanna have a contest? It'll be fun." 

"Yeah, what is it?" Arthurs curiosity was piqued. 

"Let's see who can flirt with Alfred the most. It's not like he will notice anyway. I know he's  
going to be at the pub after the meeting." 

"Right, so we'll go there and have a flirting contest. Let's do it." With a smile, Arthur agrees.

Making their way down to the bar, they discussed the rules of the competition (because that's what gentlemen do, was what Arthur had told Matthew. He rolled his eyes, thinking about how Europeans had a weird thing for rule following and fouls). The rules, however, were simple. Any and every pick-up line was welcome and so was any touch, but if Alfred got uncomfortable, they'd back off (not likely they'd have to, the man was as touchy as a lonely porcupine). The final one, whoever got the most attention by the end of the night (they were seriously timing how much time Alfred took to talk to them), or laid (both laughed at that outcome seeing that it wasn't likely with Alfred's thick skull), paid the tab.  
As they shook on the guidelines, they walked into the pub and simultaneously spotted a head of golden hair. Looking at one another for a moment, they walked over to greet the apple of their eye.

"H-hey, Al." Matthew tried.

The blond just continued to sip his drink. Already sure of his win and thumb on the timer, Arthur spoke up. "Hello, Alfred." He said, loud and attention grabbing-like.

Alfred turned to smile and gave a hello in return. Smirking, Arthur pressed the but-  
"And Mattie, hey, didn't expect you here!" Alfred remarked, noticing the quiet blond.  
Glaring, Arthur checked the stopwatch, less than three seconds, God DAM-

Mathew cut off his internal exclamation by twisting his light, curly hair with one of his slender fingers. "Gee, Al. Thanks for noticing me." He said, smiling cutely.

Well two could play that game.

"Well, sure dude. Anytime." Alfred smiles, and beside Matthew, Arthur holds the timer in his hand. They had two timers, one for each of them, and irritatingly enough, Matthews seconds were growing. "You don't usually come to the pubs after world conference meetings, why today?" With a pearly white grin, Alfred looks like a real life Ken doll, Matthew thinks. 

"Well," Matthew starts, shyly gazing at Alfred. "I decided to accompany Arthur today." 

"Rad, dude! Here, let me get you a drink." The American turns to ask the bartender for a beer, back facing Matthew and Arthur. Eyes wide, Arthur stares at Matthew, surprised. Matthew just shrugs. He could be charming if he tried, he was cute enough. "Here, drink up. This one's on me." With a wink from Alfred, Matthew is handed a tall glass of an amber drink. 

"Thanks.. Babe." Arthur nearly chokes when the word 'babe' comes out of the Canadians mouth. 

"No problem! A true hero is always willing to buy the first round of beer." There's that dazzling smile again, and Matthew blushes. He's just about to start again, say something new, when Alfred turns his attention to Arthur. Subtly, the timers are stopped and started accordingly.  
"Want me to get you a drink too, Artie?" the blond offers.

"That would be absolutely charming, love." The Brit drawled out, smiling sweetly. As green eyes continued to stare into relaxed blue ones, Mathew's twitched slightly.

"Haha, coming right up, "love," Alfred mimicked.

As soon as his back was turned those previously seductive green eyes looked challengingly into violet-blue. Arthur just shrugged, he couldn't be that cute, no, but he could be charming as hell.

Matthew narrowed his eyes even more, it was surprising he could still see. "Did you practice that in the mirror often?" He hissed at Arthur, who just smirked back.

"About as often as you shagged in front of one to practice how you'd look for him." He muttered back. It was a long comeback, Mathew noted, but damn did it have its effect.  
Blushing furiously as Alfred handed Arthur another tall glass, he decided to up his game.

Closing the few feet between them, Mathew placed a hand on Al's shoulder and shifted his weight to one foot. "What'd you think of the meeting, Al? Boring, right?" He made sure he smiled sweetly while Arthur pretended to gag.

"Haha, yeah, man. Hey, you ok?" Alfred asked, face showing slight concern. "You look a little red." He said, touching the other's cheek lightly.

Blushing harder, he squeaked out he was fine. Arthur snorted, not even caring that the other was getting more time. He was suffering from awkward care, Arthur laughed in his head.

"You sure? We can go outside for a minute if you want?" Alfred pressed.

"Maybe I just need some air, will you co-"

"He's fine, probably just getting drunk." Arthur interrupted.

Alfred laughed, returning his attention to the both of them. "That would explain why you're leaning so much on me." Al noted, pushing the small blond up a little.

Arthur smirked, take that, hahaha. Mathew shot him a look, eyes basically shooting poison at Arthur for his thoughts.

Matthew tried his best to take control of the situation. "Well, I'm only leaning on you because you've got such a welcoming attitude, who would I be to not take hold of that?" Weak. That was weak and Matthew knew it. Arthur was muffling his laughter, and damn, he could feel his face getting warmer by the second.

"I try to be welcoming," Alfred says, somewhat confused. He still had failed to even grasp the idea of a competition between the two other boys. 

"Hey, guys, I'm gonna go over there for a minute. Stay cool, ‘kay?" And with that, the American just swaggered away. 

"Did he just..." Matthew starts. 

"Ditch us?" Arthur finishes. Matthew sits down in what used to be Alfred’s seat, and Arthur turned in his own seat to face him. 

"Well, who got the most time?" Matthew tries, asking softly, his previous confidence pretty much gone. 

"Damn, both of them got turned off..." Arthur reports. He sighs. "You won, if we count the 3 seconds I had, and the 20 you had." 

"Just forget it. How embarrassing." The smaller man says, pushing up his glasses, still blushing. 

"I was amused." Arthur chuckled. 

"Oh fuck you, and your cocky attitude." The Canadian snapped. 

"Maybe we should go out to dinner before you fuck me and my cocky attitude. It's only polite." Was the smug reply. 

"Only if you buy." Matthew mutters. They both laugh, and Matthew relaxes a bit. 

"Is the game still on, Mattie?" Arthur asks, using the familiar nickname for the smaller man. 

"I'd say so." Matthew takes a sip of his beer and recoils. "Ew, how foul!" Arthur laughs loudly, then takes the glass from Matthew. He drinks a large portion of the beer, then slams it down, a red tint to his cheeks. 

"Then let's try again, lad."

Mathew smiles back, agreeing. Nodding his head, Arthur shot down the rest of the shit beer and stood. "Shall we?" The Brit asked, holding out a hand for the latter.

Matthew smiled and bowed in response. "Why thank you." Both made their way over to where Alfred headed, and for a second time that night, they spotted a familiar head of blond hair... but before either could say anything they saw a not-so-familiar head of auburn hair.

"Who?" Matthew was about to ask as Arthur's eyes narrowed, seeing a familiar curl on the brunette's head. He didn't think it was Feliciano though, his hair was lighter and this curl looked... off.

They tried to make their way closer, stopping when they heard laughter come from the mystery nation, and saw Alfred light up at the sound. "Who?"Arthur tried to ask this time, the duo a mere eight or so feet away.

"Romano?" Mathew asked under his breath.

Arthur shot him a confused look. "You know him?" He asked incredulously.

"Yeah, we're in the Often-Forgotten-Fraternal-European-Nations-Decelerating-Ecumenical-Disunity together. Along with Gilbert and Lux." Mathew said matter-of-factly as Arthur mentally noted the acronym "OFFENDED." "I didn't know Al knew him, though." He continued.

"Oh," Arthur said before noting. "Wait, aren't you a North American country?"

Matthew nodded. "They sorta forgot. Ironic, right?"

Arthur agreed with a hint of sadness in his tone. Damn, Mathew was lonely.

Returning their attention back to the estranged couple, they noted that Alfred seemed to be almost, flirting. "Is he?"Arthur asked.

"He's gonna get some." Matthew confirmed.

Arthur felt as if all the air had been punched out of him and acid was forced into him as a replacement. Matthew was in a similar state. Both watched in horror as Romano and Alfred shared a kiss, the blond pair holding onto one another as they held back tears. 

"Wow," Matthew squeaked.

Arthur heaved in reply. This sucked.

"Let's get a drink, 'kay?" The taller said, leading the Canadian away from the disgusting sight.  
Matthew nodded, allowing himself to be pulled away and forcing his watery eyes to look at Arthur. "Let's get a shot, how's that?" The green eyes man asked as they reached the bar. Matthew didn't even have the effort to oblige with a bodily movement so he sat next to the Brit.

After ordering and downing his, Arthur looked over to watch Matthew, who only started at the tiny cup. "Arentcha' gunn' drink?" He asked, slapping a hand onto Mathew's shoulder. The other jolted and downed the shot, immediately earning a red blush afterward.

"There ya'goes." Arthur said, ordering another round.

"I think I'm drunk?" Mathew asked, as if his sobriety was even a concern.

"Bloody lightweight," Arthur ticked, pushing another glass to Matthew and downing his. Matthew snorted and took the shot pushed at him.

Matthew only manages one more shot before Arthur decides maybe he shouldn't have any more. Arthur, though, has a total of 4, and they both are raging drunk. 

"Forget him... He a douche anyways.." Matthew slurs. "We both deserve best!" 

"Aye, we deserve somun’ who’ll act’ally notice when we ‘it on ‘em! Not some dense muther fucker..." 

"I would notice. I always notice if someone talks to me... It may be surprising! But a lot of people don't even see me." His voice dropped to a whisper, the small blond punctuating his sentence with a hand flourish similar to jazz hands. 

"I see ‘ya laddy, I sees ‘ya. Al’ays ‘ave." The British accent accompanying Arthurs words grew stronger as the alcohol worked though his system. 

"You're the only..." Matthew frowns. He leans over until his head rests on Arthur's shoulder. "'nly one who sees me." Arthur nods. He could handle his liquor better than Matthew could, and he knew how he was when he was drunk, but he was waiting to see how Matthew would act when absolutely drunk. So he just acted as neutral as possible. Matthew buried his face into Arthur's shoulder. 

"Want someone to love me." Matthew says quietly.  
"I know. ‘ere, want another shot?" Arthur tries.  
"No!" Matthew throws his arms around the other country and pulls him closer.  
"I wanna kiss." 

"Uhm, Mattie, maybe we should get’cha home, before ‘ya start smoochin’ every’ne." 

"Dun wanna smooch erryone. Only one." Arthur was coming to a conclusion that Mattie was the kind of guy that got touchy feely when he was drunk, which was okay, but Matthew had never been drunk before and didn't know when to stop or have someone to take him home. 

"lissen, Matthew, we should really go home, get some tea-" 

"Will you kiss me?" Matthew looks up with his big blue eyes, similar to Alfred's but so so different. They were paler, and bigger, almost gentler in a way. Arthur prefered Matthew’s eyes to Alfred's, no competition there. 

"Mate, we should get you out-" 

"Duuudes, is he drunk?" Declares a loud voice. Shit. It's Alfred. Matthew stiffens in Arthurs arms in a defensive reaction. Arthur looked up and sees Romano right behind Alfred. He looks back down to the the Canadian in his arms, and before he knew it, the gap between him and Matthew was non-existent. It took him a moment to process it. But when he realized that Matthew was kissing him, his first reaction was to kiss back. 

So he did. 

He could hear a loud "dude!" from Alfred, but it was pushed to the back of him mind. Soon enough, it was over. 

"I totally called it! I knew it!" Alfred calls out, like a 12-year-old boy. Arthur was blushing like mad, but Matthew stood to face Alfred.  
"Lissen, Al. Take your childish attitude elsewhere. Congrats on getting some, but please leave. Your commentary was not invited, so get the fuck out." 

Arthur watches in horror as the American’s mouth fell open into an 'o' shape as he processed the comment.  
"Bro." Alfred busted into a loud, jolly laugh. "Bro! I should get you drunk more often! That was great! Good for you, Mattie." 

"Matthew." The smaller man corrects. 

"Right, right. Well you two ‘love birds’ should probably go soon, Matthew doesn't look too good." With a glance, Arthur sees that Matthew does look a bit pale. 

"Come on, Matthew. Let's get out of here."

As what looked like a new couple left, Alfred wrapped his arm around Romano's waist. "Aren't they cute?" He asked, watching the tipsy duo leave.

Romano just narrowed his eyes in confusion. "Didn't he-" he tried to say what was on his mind.

"What?" Alfred asked, looking at his lover.

Romano shook his head. Didn't the scone bastard raise you? He thought. "Nothing."

"Hey," Alfred said, trying to cheer up the other man, thinking he was sad. He hated it when his lover was upset, especially when he knew the perfect way to fix it. "Wanna go fill Ludwig's car with potatoes again? And wri-"

"Write the potato has chosen you on his window?" He finished. He wasn't upset but hey, what the hell. Bastard ran a long meeting anyway. Besides, it was fun watching Ludwig open his car door and having over a hundred potatoes roll out onto his driveway. Nodding, they headed out of the bar toward the nearest store for their escapade while the other couple stumbled towards Mathew's apartment.

"So," Arthur started as they neared the complex Mathew lived at. Mathew looked up at him, looking slightly miserable. Must be the booze, Arthur thought. "What did that kiss mean?"  
Mathew looked confused and then surprised. As his eyes widened Arthur started to apologize, the poor lad must have been too drunk to remember. And damn Arthur since it was kind of a nice kiss. He continued to apologize for kissing back until Mathew tipped forward and released the booze he had drunken earlier onto the pavement in front of them.  
"Oh," Arthur said, blinking at the mess in front of them. Matthew leaned against him, now unconscious and heavy, the smell of beer both regurgitated and fresh lingering on him.  
"We'll just leave this for tomorrow, then, eh?" He said to himself as he dragged Matthew the rest of (only about a block) the way to the Canadian's home. "And everything else."  
After safely making sure there was a bucket on the side of Matthew's bed, and that the unconscious man was on his side, tucked in, with head lifted in case of more hurling; Arthur passed out on the futon in the nation room. Hopefully they'd get this straightened out tomorrow, he thought, lips still tingling from the contact that he had so recently enjoyed. 

\-----------

Canada thought he was going to die. Is this hell? He had a horrible headache, smelled awful, and was both starving and not hungry at the same time. No, he thought, this must be what a hangover is like. 

With a pained groan, Matthew opened his eyes and sat up. Bad idea. A swell of nausea rose up his throat, but he forced it back down. Deep breath in, deep breath out. He shuffled over to the bathroom for a quick but much needed shower. He felt a bit better afterwards, but the main thing was that he didn't smell like vomit or alcohol anymore. Did he throw up yesterday? Matthew couldn't remember... He hoped he didn't do anything he'd regret.

As the glasses wearing country shuffled into the kitchen, he passed the living room, where Arthur was sleeping. 

Wait. 

Arthur? 

Matthew stopped and stared at the man passed out on his couch. Why was he here? Not that he minded, Arthur often spent days over at Matthews house, but it was weird this time. Huh. Matthew softly padded over to the futon. 

"Arthur?" Matthew said quietly. Matthew figured Arthur would have a terrible headache just like he did, but he woke him up anyway. "Arthur, wake up. I'll make us breakfast." The British man stirred and groaned loudly. "C'mon, I'll make tea and everything. Wake up." Finally, a bloodshot green eye could be seen from underneath a fringe of blond hair. 

"There we go. Good morning. Do you remember what happened after my second shot? Come tell me as I make breakfast." Arthur sat up, looking pale.

"Can I shower first?" Matthew nodded. "Go ahead. I'll start breakfast." 

"Is it pancakes?" Arthur asks, already knowing the answer. 

"It is." Matthew smiled, heading into the kitchen as his friend went to shower. This routine was familiar, except they usually weren't suffering from hangovers. Unless requested otherwise, Matthew made his delicious pancakes with homemade syrup on top, but Arthur didn't mind, he quite enjoyed Matthews pancakes. Arthur also knew Matthew couldn't cook much else. Arthur tried, but he could only make decent scones. So they had pancakes often. By the time Arthur finished his shower, Matthew had made tea and started the pancakes. 

"Mm, smells good, Mattie." 

"Thank you. Tea is on the counter." Matthew gestures to the kettle and the cup, prepared just for Arthur. The green eyed man sits and drinks his tea needily, hoping the tea will take the edge off his headache, which it does a little. As Matthew sets the first plate of pancakes on the table, he tries again. 

"So, what happened yesterday? I don't remember much, but I'd like to know." he asked gently. Arthur waited until he's had a bite of his pancake to respond.  
"A lot of things, but I'll try to tell you," he said. Arthur took another bite, savoring the flavor. "Well, after we both tried to drink our love troubles away, you became.. Cuddly, I suppose." Arthur didn't think it would be nice to not tell him flat out what he did. "You were hanging on me, saying how you wanted to kiss someone." Arthur chews another bite of the pancake. "You asked to kiss me." Matthew whips around, the currently cooking pancakes totally forgotten. 

"Eh, I did?? I'm so sorry!" His face was thoroughly flushed, and his mouth hung open. 

"Close your mouth, it's fine." Arthur laughed. "Then you did. You kissed me." He smirked. Matthew stood still, frozen. 

"I did? Good god.." Matthews small mouth formed an ‘o’ shape. 

"Then Alfred showed up," he continued. "You sassed him like he stole money from you." 

"Oh my god..." Matthew hid his face behind his pale hands, but Arthur knew he was red like Feliciano's tomatoes. Arthur chuckled. 

"We left soon after that. Oh, and on the way out, you vomited and passed out. " 

"Never. Let. Me. Get drunk. Ever again." Matthew muttered, absolutely horrified. 

"Sure, mate. I won't. Sorry for giving you the shots in the first place." Arthur apologized. Matthew turned back to the now burning pancakes, still quite mortified. But unanswered questions still hung in the air. 

Would they kiss again? Did they want more? Did Arthur enjoy it? Were they over Alfred?

Arthur continued to eat the pancakes, not really tasting them any longer after his admittance of their kiss. That kiss still bothered him, pecking slowly at his brain. Didn't he like Alfred? he thought, looking at Mathew's back as the other cursed his distraction and letting his beloved pancakes burn. Arthur smiled slightly, imagining the slight crease between Matthew's eyes as he focused on cleaning the pan. Damn, he was adorab-the fuck? Arthur smacked his hand to his forehead, causing the other to look at him curiously.

"You alright, eh?" Mathew asked.

"Yeah," Arthur waved him off. "Just the hangover." He lied.

Mathew nodded sympathetically. "I'd make bacon, but," he nodded his head along in way that said, 'but it'd burn.' Both snickered at the small dilemma, seeing as how both would most likely destroy the meal if either really cooked.  
They looked into each other's eyes, smiling, faces bright. They continued to look at one another in comfortable silence until both became aware of their staring. Blushing slightly, they looked away, Matthew cooking and Arthur eating.

Arthur finished eating before Mattie even started, but the British man stayed at the table and carried light conversation with Matthew. When Matthew finished his last pancake, he pushed his plate forward and leaned back in his chair with a satisfied sigh. He risked a glance over at his friend, who seemed to be troubled, based on the furrowed eyebrows and slightly pursed lips. 

"What are you thinking about, Arthur?" Matthew asked softly. Without looking up or relaxing his face, Arthur shook his head. 

"I'm sure you wouldn't want to know." 

"Oh, come on. Lemme know. I'm your best friend, after all." Matthew gently reminds him. Arthur sighed. 

"Alright, I'll tell you. But you've asked for it." Matthew raiseed his eyebrows. But nonetheless, he waited for Arthur to continue. 

"Well, ah, I'm over Alfred. I uh," Arthur hesitates, looking hard at the floor. "I'm actually more interested in you." His green eyes flicked up to Matthew, anxiously searching for any signs of a reaction. Matthew pressed his lips into a thin line. 

"Interested... How?" He slowly asked. 

"Well, you may not remember, but when you kissed me, I kissed back. I've thought about it, and uh, Alfred isn't an option for either of us anymore. I feel like that was time wasted. But..." Arthur reaches and brushes his fingers against his lips, not aware of the action. "Since you kissed me, it just kind of... made sense." 

Matthew flushed a light pink. He would be lying if he said he had never thought of his friend like that. Everyone has done that, at least a single curious thought. What would it be like if I was dating my best friend? Matthew wanted to kiss him again. He wanted to kiss him right, not intoxicated, and he wanted to remember it. 

"Arthur. What would you do if, eh, I kissed you?" Matthew blurts. 

"To be completely honest, I'd probably kiss back." 

A second of tension. 

Matthew is up and leaning over Arthur in his chair within seconds. Arthur remains seated, staring up at the flustered Canadian above him with curious eyes. Then, slowly, Matthew leaned in, tipping his head, aligning their lips. Arthur, expecting this, leans in, and welcomes the soft sensation of Matthew's lips on his own. Their eyes flutter shut. Slowly, their lips begin to move in harmony, and the awkwardness fades. It's replaced with a warm sensation, a gentle feeling of love. 

When Matthew pulls back, Arthur is smiling, and so is Matthew. Matthew cleared his throat, his face softly glowing a pink color. 

"Are we..?" a gentle question from Matthew. 

"Do you want to be?" 

"I think we could be..." 

"Kiss me again." Matthew does. Repetitively. 

They don't take it much further than a simple kiss, and between Matthew giggles and Arthurs goofy smiling, they never really get serious or hot and heavy. When they decide to finally pull away from each other, Matthew went to clean up the breakfast-making process, and Arthur washed the dishes they used. Arthur can't stop smiling. Whenever their eyes meet, Mattie would giggle. 

"Oh shut up, lad. You should see your face right now. You look like Ludwig when he’s asked about him and his relationship with Feliciano." 

"Hehe, I do not! Ludwig is a fierce red. I'm much cuter than that." Matthew retorts, still kind of giggling. Arthur stepped towards Matthew. 

"Ah yes, how could I forget the charm of a cuddly Canadian?" 

"Hey, Canadian charm is a force to be reckoned with!" Matthew said, sticking his tongue out at Arthur. 

"Mm, so are their pancakes." By now Arthur is a only a few inches away, and he bent down to kiss the giggling fool. Matthew laughed against Arthur’s mouth, and pulls back, swatting at his chest. 

"We're never gonna get breakfast cleaned up if you keep kissing me!" Arthur considered the facts. 

"I don't mind." he catches Matthew's lips against his own again, smiling as Matthews giggles cease. Matthews eyes slip shut, his lips parting as he melts against the taller man. Arthur smiles devilishly. The green eyed man pulled back and whispered, "Better get breakfast cleaned up." Then darted out of the kitchen, laughing like mad. 

"Screw you, Arthur!" Matthew says, blushing, but still laughing at the crazy jest. 

"Maybe later!" Was the reply. Matthew blushes even darker, muttering under his breath about how annoying Arthur really is.

\-----------

"Ready, bastard?" Romano asked his boyfriend, anxious along with the other two blonds behind him. The Canadian giggled, only to be hushed by his British lover, who also had a shit-eating grin plastered to his face.

Alfred turned back to look at them, lips pulled back into a perfect smile. Winking, he grabbed the little brown, was it a vegetable? Who gave a fuck, thought Romano, just give him the potato.

Handing it over, he looked back to the door, two intense gazes besides his. Alfred pulled his arm back, calculating the throw in his head. Using a precision only he was capable of, he threw the potato at the doorbell, hitting it on the mark and alerting the occupants inside. One light already on at six in the morning, more followed as a tall blond man made his way to the front of his home. More snickers ensued, only to be silenced as the door opened. Light filtered through the door and onto the porch, illuminating the tall, broad man standing there, halfway dressed for office work. The group of pranksters could see that his tie wasn't even properly on.

"Hello?" Was called out into the brisk morning air. All four of the group tried to suppress laughter, causing the bushes hiding them to shake slightly. "Who's there?" The man asked, leaning out the door ever so slightly. Alfred silently hushed them, getting the group to focus once more as another, slightly higher yet still masculine voice called out.

"Ludwig," they asked. "Is someone at the door?"

"Hold on," Ludwig called back, heading down the porch steps to his car. "Oh, please no." He said as he got closer to the small vehicle.

"What's going on?" The other voice, Feliciano (they knew it!), asked. "Hun?" He asked worriedly, standing in the doorway, the light illuminating his fuzzy robe.

"Give me my keys." Ludwig demanded. Feliciano rushed back inside, only to return moments later to throw the keys to his husband. Ludwig caught them, pressing a button to unlock the door.

"His robe looks so soft and cute." Arthur remarked to Matthew, who nodded in agreement.

"Don't hit on my brother, pervert." Romano shot back quietly.

"Shhhh!" Alfred butt in. "He's gonna open the door!!" Romano smacked him for being so loud, but all focused once more to see Ludwig's reaction.

"WHAT?!" He shouted as the door clicked open.

"What?" Feliciano shouted back, standing on the steps now to see what was going on.

Hundreds of potatoes if various sizes, lengths, and varieties tumbled onto the driveway, rolling onto the street. 

"WHY DOES THIS KEEP HAPPENING??" Ludwig shouted, hands holding onto the sides of his head as the little veggies rolled passed his feet.

The group burst into laughter, knowing the angry German wouldn't hear them over his confusion. Feliciano had a hand covering his mouth, looking at the bushes that shook as peels of laughter echoed throughout the air. "Was it the potato fairy again?" The Italian asked his distraught lover.

"ZAT DOES NOT EXIST." He shouted, pointing at the smaller man as he failed to cover his laughter. Feliciano snickered at his husband's accent showing through in his distress.

"But, but the tomato fairy," he tried to point out between gasps of air.

"VAS YOU, ZE POTATO 'FAIRY' IS NOT REAL!"

"I don't know, third times the charm, heh?"

"ZIS ISN'T FUNNY! MY CAR IS FULL OF NUMEROUS VARIETIES OF POTATOES AND YOU'RE LAUGHING! HOW AM I GOING TO CLEAN ZIS IN TIME!?"

At this point the group of countries that were hiding in the bushes fell out onto the driveway like the potatoes they had filled the car with. "Holy shit!" America called out, holding his gut as his laughter filled the air. "Y-you thought it was a fairy? Ahaha!"

"That is so sad! Even for you , bastard!" Romano shouted back as the German looked over at the small group, face red from stress.

"He looks so mad!" Arthur pointed, giggling like the Canadian beside him.

"Zis vas you four?!" Ludwig demanded.

"Actually, us two," Alfred remarked, pointing at Romano and himself. "They came along today. Holy shit!"

The group of four stood up as fast as they could, turning to run as Ludwig chased after them, shouting about how low their intelligence was. Feliciano was doubled over on the porch, watching his brother, his brother's lover and their two friends, now lovers, run down the road as his husband trailed behind, kicking up the potatoes that continued to fall from his car onto the street. "Run, Romano, run!" He shouted, continuing to laugh as the four got away after Ludwig slipped on a sweet potato.

Eventually Ludwig got his revenge by lecturing to the four at the next meeting. The rest of the countries tried to hide their amusement as Ludwig shouted in the meeting hall.

And eventually, the others got their revenge for the lecture too, by filling the meeting room with a mixture of sauerkraut, potatoes, and sausage.

But the best part? Arthur and Mathew continued to remain in love for the rest of their immortal lives.


End file.
